Joe Saylor Rise Up! - Modern Drummer Magazine
Black Eyed Peas: I Gotta Feeling. Pharrell Williams: Happy That Next Place from "Meet Joe Black". Colbie Caillat: I Do Piano Guys: A Thousand Years. After sharing our intelligence with headquarters, we were told that Joe Louis That afternoon we were delighted to meet the man who'd made short work of some much-needed sprucing up when some of our guys requisitioned a big They even brought back a bathtub, a Frigidaire refrigerator, and an old upright piano. An Evening with The Piano Guys. Part of the Broadway In Richmond Season. Event Starts PM Joe Bonamassa. Event Starts PM.
New Zealand was the last port of call and we were flying through the night when I noticed a little spot on my leg — I thought I'd got bitten. Then I woke up and the spot was travelling up my leg in a line: This was the day of the gig. The doctor had to cut me, but I still went onstage with the poison pouring out, in all my leathers! It's called being a pro. The show must go on and all that. But this was the only time I ever thought I shouldn't have gone on. It was really painful.
I was on painkillers and the dressing had to keep being changed.
The worst gig we ever played: musicians on their on-stage lows | Music | The Guardian
Sarah Lee for the Guardian We agreed to do this gig in Italy for a fashion party, but no one there was even remotely interested in anything going on onstage — they were more interested in what they were wearing. There was one really well-built, muscly man wearing a short man-skirt that looked not so much gladiator fierce but gym-trash trying to be fashion.
Luckily I could see the funny side of it. Another time, on the Ta-Dah tour, we were scheduled to play this festival in Germany. We were on before Kraftwerk, and we were not what the minimal house-heads wanted. Everything I said on stage went down like a lead balloon, and I got the feeling nobody understood what I was saying, so I started using the biggest words I could think of.
At the end I said: Obviously, being young, I just wanted to have a good time and hang out with my friends. And the head of our record label, Mushroom, was coming there specifically to see us play, and possibly give us a deal. It was slightly disconcerting knowing the label head was there.
He was pushed off stage by a fan who thought he was an impostor because he'd dyed his hair black. We had four SAS members looking after Rob's security and none of them managed to stop this guy running on the stage and pushing Robbie off the stage into the pit. He was quite shaken up, but he went straight back on stage. He doesn't give up easily. He can be quite tasty, can Robbie: The two families weren't very happy with each other, put it that way.
When Canterbury Glass started playing it was clear they'd booked the wrong band — they wanted The Last Waltz by Englebert Humperdincknot heavy rock and blues.
The band got progressively more freaky and psychedelic, with lots of feedback, and the audience started attacking the stage, dragging leads out of amps. It all deteriorated into a punch-up between the two factions. I kept my head down till the police came.
Another time, with Genesis inwe were supporting Lou Reed in Toronto in Massey Halland there were people who wanted to watch Genesis, and people who wanted to watch Lou Reed. And that deteriorated into a punch-up between the Lou Reed fans who were on downers, and the Genesis fans who were more into Earl Grey tea.
They weren't familiar with our work. But then, I don't think anyone in Shrewsbury was familiar with our work. There were four of us on stage, and four people in the audience, including the promoter, who was crying. Shane Filan, Westlife Indonesia, It was an amazing gig, but it ended badly. There was total hysteria and we couldn't leave the stadium until they cleared it of people. It was like a battle. They were flat-out attacking each other, thumping and kicking. It was unbelievable, about police and security.
Eventually, the army got called in. It was like something out of Braveheart. And we were like: No one knew where it was going to go. Then he told them to fuck off. And eventually they did. A week later, our very tough London promoter went down to Oxford with a bunch of guys, found them, and divine retribution was delivered.
They opened the doors early and put me on earlier than I was expecting, so as I started people were still walking in. Not that there were many people there — maybe 20 or It felt like I was performing to no one. Even when you're performing on your own in your bedroom, in front of the mirror, you're in your comfort zone.
This was in the middle of nowhere and everyone was wondering whether the show had actually started. All the other dates were fine, but this one I couldn't wait for the set to finish. I was about 14 or I had to borrow my mate's PA. I set it all up and soundchecked, and within the first 10 seconds of the first song, the dude that owned the pub — literally no one else was there, I was playing to the barmaid — came down the stairs and said: I wouldn't mind, but it was just me and an acoustic guitar, so it couldn't have been that loud.
It was a tiny bit humiliating, but no one else was in the pub, so not many witnessed it. I just rang my dad and said: That hasn't happened yet. The performance was quite intense and overwrought. We were at the height of our career and just about to break, and there was a decision to split, so I wasn't expecting the gig to be triumphant.
Meet Joe Black - That Next Place - Thomas Newman | Piano Plateau Sheet Music
There was an audible gasp when the audience saw us come out — we knew how fervent they were. But between the band there was a lot of juvenile but dark, repressed, negative energy — sort of: But it was the end of something I had worked very hard to achieve, so it was very bitter. It was never going to be violent — it was gentlemanly, all stiff upper lip and respectful. One of the band members, though, chose to close the show with the words "RIP", and that was not cool: Sometimes even the first note of the evening would be wrong, and we'd all get off on the wrong foot.
That night we were all on edge worrying about the mistakes he might make, and it had a sort of domino effect where everyone on stage started making one bum note after another for the entire show. It became known as our Pass the Suck Ball gig. Strangely enough, the next day we got a four-star review in a Swedish national newspaper. Joe Mount, Metronomy The Opera House, Bournemouth, The first year of your touring career can be pretty soul-destroying because you have a dream of the touring life and then you find yourself driving round the country in a Nissan Micra, playing venues where no one knows who you are.
We turned up at this place, and it felt huge, like: And even they were on the guest list. It was the most upsetting yet hilarious gig of our lives.
The concert was sold out and all was going well, until the encore. Just as it opened, I stepped back and fell in the hole. Luckily, one of the road crew caught me, but I ended up breaking a rib and had to finish the gig with a large red and purple patch on my right side. I spent the rest of the night in the local hospital being woken up every hour in case I had internal bleeding. Roger Hodgson, Supertramp Reading Festival, It was pelting down with rain and we were all drenched but soldiered on.
My amplifier blew up and I was forced to play with a small practice amp - a Fender amp that was not grounded and every time I went up to sing and touched the microphone, I got an electric shock.
Piano Guys 101
The amp was so quiet I couldn't hear it so I was playing blind, soaked to the skin and getting electric shocks every other minute. Gratefully, I'm still alive and touring and lived to tell the tale. But he may have been the first MC ever to disappear backstage after three numbers to "go for a dump" though he promised to be quick: Another couple of songs and the show was over. It had lasted 20 minutes. Bubba sauntered off in a hail of beer glasses, his UK career essentially over.
Meet Joe Black
One of my clearest memories of the night I saw them is of Cocker, leaving in what looked like quite a hurry after a couple of songs, wearing a slightly sheepish expression. I didn't blame him. Within seconds of their arrival on stage, it was clear there was an excruciating gulf between ARE Weapons' opinion of themselves — they were nearly herniating themselves trying to be confrontational, to give off a Suicide-like aura of druggy Lower East Side sleaze — and the actual sound they were making, which was simultaneously clodhopping and feeble in the extreme.
It wasn't even funny, usually the bad gig's saving grace. It just looked pathetic. Unexpectedly, a bouncer who was standing behind me snatched the mobile out of my hand. For a moment I stared at him, furious and baffled. Then he put the phone to his ear. But there's having problems, and there's taking those problems out on 2, people who've paid to see you. Wilco mythology holds this as the gig where Tweedy above lost his temper with an unenthusiastic audience; my memory is different.
I recall a musician who, from the start of the gig — the last of a world tour — gave every sign of wanting to be anywhere else. And Jason Marsalis and Adonis Rose both have a very serious, intense ride cymbal swing beat that I was drawn to.
These are some of the things that brought Jon and me together.
Also, I got to play and hang with Ellis Marsalis when I was fifteen years old, so I started listening to a lot of his music. With a population of merely 14, the small town could hardly be called a bustling arts center. But Saylor found abundant inspiration and guidance within his humble environs and just beyond. His trumpeter father and flautist mother were music educators in the public school system. And their local church, the Full Gospel Assembly of God, was a musical nucleus for the entire family.
He used to let me sit in from time to time. I just wanted to be involved. At age eight, Joe began lessons with local college students, and within four years his quick advancements inspired his father to seek out the best pro guidance available.
Young Saylor had found his mentor. Sometimes the whole lesson would be just Roger sitting at the drums and playing a solo for two hours straight. I remember going back to sixth grade on the following Mondays and thinking to myself, I had an experience this weekend that none of my classmates would understand. I loved watching the drummers in the marching band. When I got to high school, I joined, mostly because I had to—my dad was the band director!
I hated it, though. I just wanted to play drumset. Now, when I look back at my younger self, I wish I had taken it more seriously. But at the time I thought, Aw, this is dumb—I want to swing out! And Humphries initiated Saylor into another facet of jazz.
Eager to form his own group, Saylor recruited his two best friends, pianist Angelo Versace and bassist Philip Kuehn. Improving by leaps and bounds through their high school years, they picked up local gigs, eventually graduating to more substantial dates in Pittsburgh.
And they even rubbed elbows with legends. And he would set up gigs for us to play with them—outside of the high school—when they were in town. He would set up gigs in Pittsburgh at clubs, with the paj3 rhythm section accompanying various artists. The place you really learn how to play is on the bandstand.
And it helps learning with people who can really play. You can get it somewhat from listening to recordings. Once engaged in their conservatory studies, Saylor and Batiste gathered freelance gigs, and Batiste recruited Saylor to form a trio. At the Rubin Museum of Art.
When Kuehn left town for a summer, the band found itself adrift. But the temporary setback turned out to be a serendipitous open door. Tuba player Ibanda Ruhumbika stepped in to fill the gap, along with saxophonist Eddie Barbash. The new unit set upon a grassroots strategy—or perhaps a pavement strategy—that would change its future.
We could play in the street or the subway station. But not like typical buskers. We did that every single night for an entire summer. We ended up getting so many fans. And we eventually realized that this is how we could build a fan base. Saylor often grooved the crowd with only his lone tambourine at hand.
Our fan base just grew and grew.
We became known for doing this kind of mobile concert. And that mobile band became known as Jon Batiste and Stay Human. At its club gigs, the band would often harken back to its street roots, parading audiences through venues and out into the streets, with Batiste leading the way, wailing on his melodica and followed by tuba, sax, and Saylor providing some impressively funky tambourine playing.
The pied-piper unit gained visibility, leading to a stroke of luck: For a July appearance, Colbert featured the band in support of its album Social Music. While interviewing Batiste, Colbert asked him to define the meaning of the title. The world is global right now.That Next Place - Meet Joe Black - piano version
I draw from all styles. As the tune shifted into the bridge, the camera framed Saylor as he fired off hellacious fills over the deep pulse. Batiste tore it up behind the keys, then kicked the stool out from under him and grabbed his melodica. With Saylor close behind, now strutting while playing a snaky tambourine pulse, the surging march was on.
The audience—plus Colbert—jumped to their feet. Forming a human train, they low-crouch strided out the doors, surging onto 54th Street and into additional crowds that merged with the celebration.
He got together and had a conversation with Jon, and they found they had similar beliefs, philosophies, goals, and intentions in what they were all about. And the core unit could also experiment with diversity, varying its sound with a roster of guest members. And the selection of Stay Human for the revered house-band position was a colossal coup for a lower-on-the-radar indie group.